A tall, dark man sits in the middle of the large, empty room. He stares at the baby grand before him, marveling at its beauty, like he has so many times before. He doesn’t play the piano; he doesn’t even touch it. He fears that its beauty will be lost the second his mediocre hands are upon it.

He has been sitting there for two hours before he slowly stands, careful not to come into contact with the elegant instrument. He takes two long strides before noticing a gorgeous, tall, pale boy, wearing a black collared shirt. The boy smiles as he grabs the older male’s arm and leads him back to the piano bench.

They both sit, side by side on the small bench and the man isn’t sure which is more beautiful, the boy or the piano. He believes this boy is meant to be sitting in front of the piano. Two things so beautiful should never be apart.

The boy positions his hands above the keys and the song starts. It starts out slow, the boy’s fingers only lightly pressing the keys, but as the song progresses, it becomes something so glamorous there are no words to describe it.

The man watches as the boy’s long fingers dance across the keys so gracefully. He takes in every note, memorizing the way the song echoes throughout the room, making the song sound even more grand.

The man is in love with the song. He is in love with the instrument that makes the song so stunning. He is in love with the way the song fills the room. Most of all, he is in love with the boy who is the creator of this wondrous sound.

It seems too soon that the notes are slowing and the boy is playing the final chord of his song. Both men rise and the boy gives a shy smile as he takes the other’s hand into his own. They walk out together, the older man not taking his eyes of the younger, for he knows, this is not a boy, but an angel.